


Feasting beasts, clawing in need

by Nalyra



Series: Truths we are dealt [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha Hannibal, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Bonding, Cannibalism, Canon Compliant, Claiming Bites, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hair-pulling, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mating Bond, Murder Husbands, Omega Will, Possessive Behavior, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Post-Season/Series 03A AU, Power Dynamics, Power Play, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8923672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalyra/pseuds/Nalyra
Summary: A feast at Bedelia's is a risk and they know they're hunted.And Jack is a good fisherman, too.______________





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should apologize.... but it had to.  
> However, I'm already working on the next part.

Will steps out of the shower, deeply appreciative of the overly expensive towels, wondering at how different everything feels now, his skin a lot more sensitive, sense of smell more intense. He slowly dresses himself in the suit that Hannibal ordered from a tailor with her credit card information, not perfect in fit but very close, the cream shirt going along beautifully with the dark bluish suit, colors changing ever so slightly in the light. He combs his fingers through his hair, knowing Hannibal likes it unruly, even if he may pretend otherwise, probably dating back to the beginnings of their turbulent relationship, when he was a mess. Often. He snorts and grins at himself, gaze flitting over the scars on his face, silvery lines, healed fully now, the scar in his forehead remade carefully by Hannibal and healed again as well, almost invisible. He trims his beard with a small scissor, weirdly happy it seems to keep even now with his body changed and smiles again, humming softly to himself. 

He leaves the bathroom barefoot, top two buttons undone, returning to the living room quietly, where Hannibal is setting up their operating theatre, splendid in his own dark suit, shirt similarly open, feet socked and Wills heart beats once in between beats, hard. Hannibal looks up and levels him with an amused gaze, inhaling deeply, his appreciation shivering across their bond. Will inclines his head a fraction and then steps over to her prone form, lightly picking her up, careful not to dislodge the IV bag, lightly putting it onto his shoulder for the short trip. He lowers her onto the foil Hannibal ordered online on same-day delivery, carefully arranging her limbs, his emotions weirdly calm, decided.

Hannibal kneels down across her prone body, eyes on Will, sparkling darkly in the low light, an intense delighted expression on his face. Will looks up and smile softly at him, before raising his hand and holding his hand out, palm open and up, waiting. Hannibals mouth drops open in a dangerous smile, tongue tracing his teeth for a moment, and a dark excitement snakes along their bond and Will inhales deeply for a moment, eyes closing, trying to control his own. He opens them again when he feels the cold metal touch his skin, his fingers closing on the scalpel, weighing it in his hand for a moment, the light glinting off of it.

Will lowers his eyes, his gaze traveling along her form, splendid in the dark satin house suit that Hannibal has dressed her in, the thought that Hannibal has un- and then redressed her weirdly inconsequential, all things considered. He draws the scalpel through the cloth on her thigh slowly, watches as the cloth glides away, puddling on either side of her leg. He hesitates for a moment and feels the nudge along their bond, grinning suddenly, anticipating the soft rumble, feeling it before he can actually hear it, Hannibals voice low and almost dreamy, non-intruding.

„I will guide you through this, mylimasis. First, the tourniquet.“

Will carefully puts the scalpel down and then takes the offered item, calmly placing it onto the precise batch of leg Hannibal quietly indicates to him. He hesitates and then raises his head, sighing through his nose, humming before voicing his request.

„I would like some music… would you be so kind, Hannibal?“

Hannibal smirks at him and then gets up quietly, traversing the room with long strides, the cd player next to the TV already loaded with some classical composition apparently. Will smiles over at him and lowers his head again, feeling Hannibal return silently, only whispers of cloth announcing his arrival. Will pulls the foil up over his knees and then takes the scalpel again and leans forward, his left hand tightening on her thigh and the tourniquet, his right pressing the scalpel in, the thin red line welling up immediately, the coppery smell hitting him hard.

He moans and then licks his lips, breathless arousal fiery across their bond and Will laughs quietly, eyes flashing up for an instant.

„No. Definitely no, Hannibal.“

Will snickers and then deepens the cut, Hannibal obviously fighting with himself, but only interrupting the process quietly when he instructs him to clip the various blood vessels, a lot less blood than Will anticipated flowing out of the wound. It’s a dreamlike situation, intense and intimate, the fugue in the background in stark counterpoint to the sedate violence. Will stops when the bone is freed, feeling free and elated, dropping the scalpel onto the foil, his fingers going in to touch the open flesh and he groans, hears Hannibals helpless groan on the other side. Will licks his lips and then shakes his head, indicating the bone saw with a tilt of his head, words breathless.

„Help me with that?“

Hannibal exhales a shuddering breath and then Will can feel Hannibal pull himself together, their bond vibrating. Hannibal places the bone saw in the cut and pulls, the reverberations jarring sounds that make Will grit his teeth, every pull and every push nudging the putrid feelings he has for her, the final break when her leg falls apart leaving him emotionally exhausted and he falls back, gasping, laughing and shivering, trying to control his breathing. 

Hannibal watches him for a moment and then seals and dresses the wound, deft and perfunctory, and Will is grateful for the moment of almost not-attention, scooting backwards until he can sit back against the sofa, his bloody hands held up as to not mess up the suit. His eyes drift over to the dining area, done up in old world charm, in stark contrast to the rest of the flat, and he tries to picture her sitting there, collected and… sassy. Will grins suddenly, anticipatory glee spreading through him, and the pushes himself up to his knees by shifting his weight, taking himself and his bloody hands to the bathroom, washing her blood away almost in trance. 

His eyes come up and he smiles at himself in the mirror, feeling Hannibal come up behind him, dark, dangerous, his nose pushing into the hair at Wills nape. Will hums when he feels the kiss on the scar in his neck, feels how Hannibal pushes his hips forward, hands going down to Wills belt, opening his pants with a few deft movements, pushing it down just enough and Will groans quietly, swamped in Alpha pheromones, coming off of Hannibal in heavy intoxicating waves, not to be denied, not now. 

Hannibal bites down onto the scar, teeth only holding, growling and then presses forward with all his weight, bending Will over the basin slightly, positioning him. Will hisses, snarling, hands pressing against the mirror now, letting himself fall into the need willingly and yet a bit stubbornly, feels how Hannibal hastily opens his own fly only, and Will laughs darkly, knowing they will be stained. The sound dies in his throat when Hannibal pushes in harshly, reduced to base need and starts up a rhythm of short violent pushes into Will, robbing him of his voice, bruising the front of his hips against the basin. 

Hannibal leans forward even more and Will falls forward, the angle allowing Hannibal ever deeper and Will moans deeply, his breath fogging the mirror, now so close to his face. Hannibal settles onto him, his teeth still holding Wills neck, growling, one hand bruising on Wills hips, the other coming up to grip Wills hair, pressing his face down, immobilized. Hannibal changes the angle and then presses down and holds and Will opens his mouth in a silent scream, the pressure perfect agonized pleasure, setting the sparks off behind his eyes until he jerks and breaks in ecstasy, the possessive obsessiveness freely running along their bond, drowning him in utter ecstatic belonging. He is dimly aware of Hannibal biting down and then slamming into him once more, hard, before the pleasured agony of the knot pushes him into the darkness, dark threads of vicious antlers spreading across his consciousness until the web pulls tight.


	2. Chapter 2

Will returns to consciousness with Hannibal still connected to him, though the knot has deflated, Hannibal kissing and nipping along his neck and nape, his hands softly caressing everywhere he can reach, uncaringly wrinkling the suit. His weight is still keeping Will down and Will cannot help but be a bit annoyed at this, typical Alpha machoism at the fore, silently vowing to himself to haul Hannibal a bit lower. Later. Though, he amends quietly to himself, the stark possessive behaviorism exhibited may only be a sign of a… certain insecurity, understandable given the situation that Will insisted on. After all, Bedelia has a way of getting under your skin. Even if you’re Hannibal Lecter.   
Will sighs softly and then bucks up a bit, hissing and moaning when Hannibal raises up and withdraws slowly, the image in the mirror showing Will the intent gaze with which Hannibal watches their slow separation happening. 

And suddenly Will grins, more freely, sending the amusement and suggestion across their link, and Hannibals eyes snap up and lock onto his in the mirror, dark red and beyond intense. Hannibal withdraws fully and then cleans Will up, carefully, dropping the towel to the ground uncaringly and Will raises his eyebrow at that, turning to reach for another and do the same to Hannibal, the atmosphere eerily quiet.

The soft classical music from the living room binds them in the moment and Will raises his left hand and pushes the silvery strand off Hannibals forehead, smiling softly. Hannibal turns his head into his hand and quietly pulls Wills pants up, fastening them again and Will leans forward and up after he is done, his lips ghosting a kiss to Hannibals, his hands dropping down to put him away again as well, the intimacy of the acts a burning intensity.

Hannibal follows him when he withdraws and presses a kiss to his forehead, shuddering emotions coming off of him in waves. Will shushes him, voice almost inaudible.

„It’s alright. I understand.“

Hannibal exhales a shuddering breath and then steps back, tugging at Wills clothes to right them, smirking wryly. He raises his right hand and runs his thumb over Wills lips, eyes still dark, their bond thrumming with unvoiced emotions. When Hannibal speaks, his voice holds a note of wonder and resignation, dangerous and dark.

„You are all I ever wanted. I will burn the world to keep you.“

Will smiles against his fingers, feels Hannibal trace the edge of his front teeth. He whispers against them, echoing the dangerous note.

„-We- will…“

He pauses, grinning sharply, his hands coming up to Hannibals lapels.

„Let’s start with her leg…“

Hannibal snorts and leans forward and kisses him for a moment, lips just holding, and Will closes his eyes, softly mewling. Hannibal draws back slowly, and Will keeps still, feeling Hannibals gaze keenly, a moment of observation freely given, thankfully taken. Hannibal hums and then steps back further, dislodging Wills hands. Will opens his eyes again and they lock gazes once more, and Wills neck prickles, the shadows behind Hannibals head distorted and black, their beasts locking their horns. Hannibal grins and snarls a bit, acknowledging. 

Will watches him turn and go back into the kitchen to prepare the meat, smirking, and then steps outside onto the beautiful rooftop terrace instead, beets of flowers everywhere, setting up the huge barbecue gas grill there. He raises his head to the night sky when he is done, raising his chin, the evening wind playing in his hair, the moon just visible off to the side. He more feels than hears Hannibal step up and around him, carefully placing the cut up meat onto the grill, stepping back to survey his handiwork after.

„A true fire pit would be more appropriate, but this will do.“

Will grins, eyes half closed, relaxed.

„It would also be pretty impractical, attention wise… Think Jack is preparing to attack us here?“

Hannibal hums, reaching to adapt the meats position slightly, tone contemplative. 

„If he is, I do hope we get to dine first. However, the fact that we have stayed here for almost a day already may indicate he does not yet know.“

Will shoots him a sideways look, eyes narrowing.

„Yet?“

Hannibal smirks, his eyes sparkling.

„We will set the table for three. But guests are always welcome, of course.“

He pauses, one hand coming up to trace Wills jaw.

„Would you prepare her for our dinner?“

Will raises his chin, his eyes flashing with mirth and subtle anger.

„Any preferences?“

Hannibal grins, a tad dangerously.

„No.“

Will lowers his head and turns it into Hannibals palm, lightly biting at the meat of his thumb. He turns and walks back into the apartment, Hannibals gaze like a cloak, trailing behind.


	3. Chapter 3

„Hello, Bedelia.“

There is a small groan and she sits up groggily, movements sluggish and yet injected with defiant precision, pushing herself up into a seating position against the back of the sofa. Will bends forward and pushes a curl of hair out of her face almost kindly, tugging it behind her ear. She allows the small intimacy with a weary look, her still drugged eyes already so perceptive on his. Her voice is slow and dreamlike, carried on a soft inhale.

„You did not learn your lesson because you did not want to, didn’t you… How very intriguing.“

Will purses his lips, letting the truth seep through into his expression, sharpening his features.

„Did you know, Bedelia? Or suspect?“

She smiles an enigmatic little smile, her pupils blown, head swaying a bit. 

„I did not know. But I did suspect, yes. In a way, even without the hormonal component, there are… instances of recognition between possible… matches. And you… you were drawn to each other like the moth to the flame. I had seen it before, once, a long time ago. Your… other dispositions only helped the process along. Or, more precisely, hindered it.“

Will leans closer, his voice a whisper, harsh and yet curious.

„Why didn’t you tell him?“

She smiles again, her voice calm.

„Why do you think?“

Will licks his lips, viciously amused.

„You wanted him to yourself. The private knowledge of Hannibal Lecter bending to your will… But it is never that easy, isn’t it. It all comes at a price…“

Bedelia shakes her head once, eyes flashing dimly.

„I knew he wished to eat me all along… Our… arrangement was always just an interlude…“

Will narrows his eyes, grinning harshly, voice grim.

„You wanted to see what would happen…“

Bedelia smiles at him, lips pursed into a dignified smirk, answering the unspoken question with a small exhale.

„As another Alpha I could not bond with him, and I admit that my professional curiosity far outweighed my… personal concerns…“

Will smiles at her, more gently.

„You play, you pay…“

Bedelia inhales slowly, eyes tracing Wills face before dropping to the scar in his neck, silvery and in stark contrast to the surrounding skin, proudly displayed. Her hand comes up to trace it and Will allows it, feeling strangely akin to her suddenly.  
She presses her forefinger gently to the healed indents, mouth dropping open a bit, her words whispered.

„Ah, you never wore adequate armor, Will Graham… but then, you did not need to. The marks you wear are ones of ownership, but it is -you- who owns -him-.“

She raises her eyes to his, her nails scratching gently.

„And you know it.“

Will is silent, allowing the smile to tug at his mouth, the truth of her words reverberating through him, making him almost giddy. She continues, her fingers slowly tracing up and to his carotid, pressing gently into his pulse, eyes boring into his.

„My armor is inadequate, but sufficient to save my life…“

Will raises his head a fraction, tilting it in consideration, pieces clicking into place.

„In exchange for Jacks continued absence.“

Bedelia smiles gently, eyes flicking to the clock on the fireplace, before returning to his.

„You would have to give me access to my mobile phone for it to continue to be so… They expect my text within the next two hours.“

Will grins, thoughts racing. He clicks his tongue, picking up her hand on his throat, his voice amused when he raises her fingers to his lips, pressing a polite almost kiss onto them.

„Ahh, a nice try, Bedelia. Unfortunately, the time has passed already… 24 hours have gone by since that time, we were… busy.“

He bends forward, whispering into her ear.

„I am afraid we will have to find out how good your armor really is… and if Jack really was on stand by.“

She withdraws her hand from his with a jerky movement, her face a careful mask of indifference and Will chuckles, the anger at her dropping away completely, now, in the face of their… endgame. He purses his lips at the thought, tilting his head, not as happy with it as he thought he would be. He hesitates and then withdraws the infusion needle from her arm, before picking her up, her arm going around his shoulders in defiant camaraderie, silent. 

„Let’s get you dressed, Bedelia… dinner will be ready soon.“

Her head lowers to his shoulder and he carries her to the bedroom, feeling more free with each step.


	4. Chapter 4

She sits at the table defiantly, beautifully done up, resigned, watching the roasted meat on the table with a thinly veiled sneer of disgust. Will pushes the long curled tresses over her shoulder on his way to the kitchen area, seeing her take the oyster fork down under the table within the reflection of the sideboards glass door, smirking to himself. He raises his head to Hannibals gaze, dark and intent on him when he steps up to him, Hannibal turning his face towards him, inhaling deeply and Will chuckles, before raising his head and baring his throat on purpose, the bonding mark glinting in the candles glow. 

Hannibal closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again, eyes pitch black, his voice gravelly.

„Ah, if you wish to eat anytime soon, mylimasis, I suggest you refrain doing this for now.“

Will snickers and then takes the wine bottle, returning to the dining area, refilling Bedelias glass carefully, Hannibal stepping up to them with measured steps, putting the side dishes down with a flourish. Hannibal steps close to Bedelia and then starts cutting the meat, distributing it and the side dishes beautifully, the aroma drafting through the whole loft, making Wills mouth water even more. Hannibal ghosts a kiss to the top of his head when he rounds the table, seating himself opposite of Will, raising his glass, eyes twinkling.

„To old friends and new paths.“

He pauses, eyes on Bedelia for a moment before returning to Will.

„I am grateful to have you both for dinner.“

Bedelia snorts, weirdly elegantly, her left brow rising, voice icy.

„You are not eating him, though, are you.“

Hannibal tilts his head, smirking, picking up his cutlery. Will grins and takes a sip of his own wine, letting his amusement flow along their bond.

„Not this time. Not yet.“

Hannibals eyes flash darkly for a moment and Bedelia raises both eyebrows in severe annoyance, cutting a piece off and putting it into her mouth in pure defiance. Will watches her chew and then swallow, forcefully, her voice carefully controlled.

„My compliments to the chef.“

Hannibal pauses for a moment, taking his own bite slowly, voice reflective.

„Curious. Abel Gideon said the exact same thing.“

Will cuts off a piece of meat as well, the taste exploding in his mouth and he swallows it with a relish, letting the elation flow along their bond freely, feeling Hannibals possessive appreciation in return. He frowns for a moment, curious.

„Did he say something else when you ate him?“

Hannibal pauses again, smirking self deprecatingly for a moment before taking a sip of his wine. 

„He said I missed your company.“

Bedelia puts her fork down and reaches for her glass, downing it in one large swallow. Will huffs a laugh and then retrieves the bottle, refilling her glass, seeing her left hand clench around the hidden fork from the corner of his eye. He clicks his tongue when he sits down again, watching Hannibal eat slowly for a moment, thoughts jumbled, curiosity getting the better of him.

„Did you two talk about me much when you… eloped to Europe?“

Hannibals eyes snap to his, a certain amount of dread seeping along their bond, met by vicious curiosity on Wills part, their gazes locking. Will breaks it when Bedelia speaks, wine glass again almost half empty, tone sardonically dry.

„You and your history were never far from our conversations.“

Will smirks, eyes narrowing.

„Was it your idea to have him eat my brain?“

Will feels Hannibal withdraw a bit into himself, but ignores it for now, watching Bedelia hesitate on her answer, her eyes trained on her glass. Will clicks his tongue again, fed up suddenly with both their antics. 

„I’ll take this as a yes. Would you… like me to crush the bird this time, Bedelia?“

Her eyes snap to his, defiantly frightened gaze unflinching. She closes her eyes on the knock on the apartment door, Jacks voice booming.

„Open up, Hannibal, this is your only chance to surrender.“

Will starts and freezes, returning his gaze to Hannibals, his neck prickling, antlers stretching throughout his consciousness, feeling the echo of darkness reach for him along their bond, adrenaline rushing through him.

He grins.


	5. Chapter 5

Will watches with mounting irritation as Hannibal packs their food into small boxes and stows them in their backpacks with precise, deliberate movements, the booming vibrations from the battering ram the special unit uses on the front door jarring, very grateful for the increased security measures the apartment seems to possess.  
He paces back and forth slowly, watched by a darkly amused Bedelia, more than slightly drunk now and swaying in her seat. He looks up at the moon, grateful that there are no other rooftops at same height around, the risk of sharpshooters almost non existent at least.

He turns towards her when she addresses them both, voice haltingly but still only slightly slurred, a rather impressive feat in Wills opinion.

„I am curious, however are you planning of removing yourself from this situation?“

Will grins, shaking his head, hands spread out.

„Actually, I am curious about that myself.“

Hannibal chuckles and looks up at him from where he is kneeling on the floor, tightening the straps.

„Patience, mylimasis.“

Another booming vibration shakes the door and this time there is a minute splintering to be heard, and Hannibal straightens, pursing his lips. He steps over to Bedelia, bending down to ghost a kiss to her cheek, her eyes keeping track of his movements wearily. Hannibal chuckles and then slowly traces his hand down her left arm, tapping the hidden hand with the fork twice.

„Now, Bedelia, I believe you know what to do with this, do you not?“

Bedelia raises her chin and then nods once, voice measured carefully.

„I will… help you because you ask me to. How did I taste?“

Will steps towards them, answering in Hannibals stead.

„Like old history.“

Bedelia looks at him, resignation mixing with a certain pissed sulkiness and Will grins, deciding to let her off the hook.

„You were delicious.“

He smirks and then clicks his tongue, his tone turning vicious for a moment.

„My… appetite has been … sated. However, do not cross our paths again.“

Bedelia raises her eyebrows, drily toasting him and Will turns to Hannibal and then reaches across their bond and Hannibal comes to him in two long strides, the kiss instantly deep and base, making Will moan deeply. The door shudders again on the next strike and Will breaks the kiss, raising his eyebrows in true curiosity.

„And now?“

Hannibal smiles gently and then takes his hand and drags him towards the terrace, carrying their backpacks in his other hand. He leads him over to the far edge and then steps up to the miniature shed there, unlocking it. He checks and then steps back, smirking, with an ounce of regret in his voice.

„There is a waste chute down here, for the gardening waste. Typically, it will end in the dumpster though.“

Will laughs outright, chuckling deeply before stepping forward, looking down into small shed, past the gardening equipment, towards the narrow, winding chute. He shakes his head, and then reaches back, dragging his backpack forward. He waves his hand, indicating the shed door. 

„Try to lock it behind us. Let them wonder a bit longer.“

He turns towards the chute and throws the backpack down, watching it slide down easily, all things considered, sighing deeply. The sound of splintering wood has Hannibal close the door behind them, and Will snorts, touching the tip of his tongue to his left canine.

„Well, here goes nothing.“

He kneels down and pushes himself over the opening, dangling his legs down, the chute just wide enough, looking up at Hannibal in the dim light, silently inquiring.  
Hannibal nods once, and then bends forward, tracing his jaw for a moment.

„I am right behind you, mylimasis.“

Will shoves his furious emotions across their bond, sees Hannibals eyes darken and then nods and retracts his arms, gaining momentum immediately, darkness receiving him, the sense of vertigo immediate. He does not realize he is holding his breath until it is pushed out of him in a rush on impact, his feet connecting with his backpack, the momentum throwing him forward against the side of the dumpster with a dull thud. He groans and then pushes himself up on all fours, rolling over and out of the way, pulling a face when he feels some organic waste in his back, the smell of rotten eggs instantly nauseating, trying to get his bearing, the bottom apparently tilted.  
There is a whisper of sliding cloth and then Hannibal hits the space beside him, converting the energy of descent into a half summersault, stopped upside down against the dumpster wall and Will cannot help it, he snorts and then cackles, trying to keep quiet, feeling Hannibals consternation shudder across their bond. He rolls sideways and then pushes himself up on all fours and Will follows suit, whispering.

„We really need to get out of here, Hannibal. There must be another Swat team down here…“

Hannibal nods and then picks up one of the backpacks, grimacing when he brushes dirt and waste off of it. He pushes himself up and opens the lid an inch, looking through. He lowers himself down again after a moment, gently closing the lid, irritation written clearly on his face. Will pulls his lower lip between his teeth, thoughts racing, no words needed to know they cannot just get out. He raises his eyes, unseeing at the lid above them, the chutes exit coming in through an opening, held by latches. He tilts his head and then picks up his backpack, putting it on in front, indicating for Hannibal to do the same and then crawls back up into the chute, feet pressing against the other side, pushing himself up slowly. Adoration flows across their bond and Will rolls his eyes, feeling the inaudible chuckle before Hannibal does the same, pushing up and close to him, squeezing himself into the space available. Will nods at him, limbs starting to shake from the strain and Hannibal bends down a bit, fingers reaching for the latches, the small snicks loud in the quiet. There is a metallic groan and then the dumpster moves away inch by inch, thankfully almost quiet, gaining momentum quickly.

There is shouting and then quick steps, coming closer and then there is a series of yelled instructions and Will grins grimly, breathing harshly. The dumpster crashes into something and the sounding alarm makes it clear it has apparently reached parked cars, shadows rushing by the chutes opening, running after it, almost silently. Hannibal watches intently and then there is a short scream far above them and sudden radio transmissions and he smiles darkly, and Will catches the phrase of ‚oyster fork in his throat‘ from an agent hurrying by. Will clicks his tongue, eyes sparkling, a weird sense of pride echoing between both of them.

They wait 5 seconds after the last agent they see hurrying by, dropping down in the sudden quiet, with Will falling down a bit more heavily, both crouching, trying to assess the situation. Wills head swivels around, adrenaline high and then he pulls Hannibals arm and drags him towards the street, away from the agents he can see still farther down the street, a bit up and away from where the dumpster is still wreaking havoc on the parking cars. They sprint towards the corner, trying to stay in between the cars and Will grins suddenly, feeling daring. Hannibal throws him a look and then grins, both of them syncing up suddenly, rushing towards their target.

They both let themselves fall into the seats through the open doors with a small sigh, glad to see the drive is in standby and Hannibal grins, putting the police car into gear. Will leans forward and disables the radio, opening the small compartment to rip out the GPS just as Hannibal lets them roll down the street with the lights turned off. They round the corner and Will laughs out loud, giddy with elation and their so far successful flight.  
Hannibal accelerates slowly, and Will indicates the parking lot three blocks down with a small nod, ruffling through the stuff in the glove compartment, pocketing the handcuffs and the tear gas, grinning viciously.

Hannibal enters the parking lot at an almost sedate pace as to not attract too much attention, selecting a parking spot close to the cashier, insinuating official business to onlookers. They wait until they’re alone for a moment, leaving the car in a rush, hurrying over to the opposite side of the cashiers field of vision when he looks down, Wills heart hammering loudly in his ears. Hannibal picks up a stone and knocks the small back door window of an old station wagon in, reaching in to open the back door and then through it the front door. Will glides into the back seat, opting for speed, and reaches into his backpack for a knife, giving it to Hannibal when he settles in the drivers seat shortly after. Hannibal smiles at him and then removes the plastic covering under the steering wheel with it, locating the wires easily. He cuts them and then crosses them, the engine rumbling to life and he flashes a smile at Will, his red eyes almost seeming to glow in the low light.

Will lowers himself out of view as Hannibal pulls out of the parking spot slowly, making sure to pull up to the cashier so the back seat and the broken window are hidden from view, spinning a tale of having forgotten the ticket at the restaurant, his manner and suit convincing the cashier easily to allow for a full day ticket and Hannibal pays it with a heavy tip, nodding and then pulling out of the parking lot.

„Stay low, mylimasis. I think we are less suspicious if only one can be seen at a time.“

Will hums and then shrugs, pushing the backpack over and getting more comfortable, the old car rather wide seated, stretching out as far as he can.  
He looks up at the small broken window frame, the cold draft ruffling his hair, sighing softly.

„So this is what you meant when you said she knew what to do with the fork…“

Hannibal is silent but Will can feel the amusement along their bond, combined with a certain amount of pride for her to actually follow through. Well, Will cannot quite blame him, the timing of it having helped their escape rather strongly after all. 

„Do you think she managed to stab Jack?“

This time Will can hear Hannibal click his tongue, considering before he answers.

„I would imagine she managed to stab someone important to the operation for the teams to scatter like that. However…“

He grins and Will catches a glance of it in the rear mirror.

„It was most fortunate that the dumpster stood on a tilted path.“

Will sighs, shaking his head slowly.

„We won’t always be this fortunate.“

There is silence on the statement, a wave of possessiveness and uncontrollable need rolling along their bond and Will inhales deeply, feeling the influx of Alpha pheromones intimately. He undulates slowly, feeling his body respond to its mates professed unconscious claim, smirking drily.

„How long until we reach the boat?“

Hannibals voice is almost a growl, a strained note to it.

„Too long.“

Will lays down slowly, his trousers feeling tight, just knowing Hannibal is right, trying to force it down and knowing they both cannot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so the escape chute is maybe a bit big but I'm taking artistic license here, after all ABO is as well.  
> But I -have- seen something like this (once) before^^.  
> Also, there was this image of Hannibal upside down stuck in my head and... well. It had to get out^^.


	6. Chapter 6

In the end Hannibal stops in the back of a diner, the car hidden just out of view behind the tree line, crawling back onto the back seat to Will, who receives him with a dark moan. Hannibals eyes are black, intoxicating in his purity and he turns and takes Will there, Wills face pressed into his backpack, not enough oxygen and more than enough pleasure fusing them in ecstasy. It’s brutal and base, craved and short and with a breathless intensity that reaffirms their claim on each other, Hannibals hand over Wills mouth preventing all sound and kissing, his teeth deep in the scarred bonding mark, keeping Will pinned between both penetration points until the knot deflates. Will tries to push up when Hannibal pulls out, but fails to do so with a deep laugh, the mindless lust having robbed him of strength, his bodies spendings covering the seating everywhere.

Hannibal scoots a bit back, eyes more calm now, quietly surveying the mess they made, voice dry when he finally speaks, sated for now.

„I believe we may have to burn the car.“

Will snickers, trying to stretch as much as he possibly can, looking down at his messy and ripped suit afterwards.

„And the clothes…“

Hannibal huffs a laugh, eyes softening with humor, their bond thrumming with sated lust and feeling, a vibrant buzz of need, just out of reach. Will scoots around until he can sit next to Hannibal, one leg over his, reaching up to pull him for a quick kiss. 

„How much longer until we reach the boat?“

Hannibal drops his head onto Wills shoulder, nuzzling into his throat over the bite mark, now sluggishly bleeding once more, voice muffled against Wills skin.

„Another hour I would think. I believe the boat has been prepared already. We should be able to just change the car here and go straight down to it.“

Will turns his head and presses a kiss to the silver hair line, his heart beating once, hard. 

„Then let’s do that.“

 

______________________

 

They steal a nondescript silver Honda civic from the parking lot, leaving their old car behind the trees, opting for speed. Will tries to shrug the nagging feeling at leaving their DNA ‚out there‘ off, determined to look forward. The journey to Key Largo is silent, fraud with a weird nervosity, increasing the closer they get, the small text informing them that their previous car has been found not helping.

Will breathes a sigh of relief when they finally pull into the marinas parking lot, only a handful of boats tethered to the landing stages, and Wills eyes flit over them, trying to discern which one may be theirs. He freezes when he sees it, just knows it is it, his stomach dropping out for a moment.

Hannibal stops in the movement of getting out of the car, halted by the almost terror that Will exudes, trembling across their bond. Hannibal licks his lips and then looks over at Will, eyes dark but not yet understanding.

„What is it, mylimasis?“

Will closes his eyes for a moment, willing himself to breathe calmly, his terror switching to almost fury in an instant, at himself and their general hubris, hissing the words through his teeth.

„You brought the ‚Nola‘ back over…. from Portugal. You frigging brought her over to stock her for us?“

Hannibal tilts his head in an almost reptile manner, trepidation flowing across their bond, still not quite understanding.

„I believed… you would be pleased. We had to rename her, though.“

Will snarls quietly, his jaw working.

„I can -see- that.“

Hannibal tilts his head some more, eyes narrowing.

„Why are you furious, beloved?“

Will breathes out through his nose, forcing the fury down, now mixing with utter dread. He licks his lips, grinning harshly.

„I am furious, because this boat has been sitting here for I don’t know how long and you can bet your ass that Jack will have kept an eye on preparing sail boats. And Jack…“

Will pauses, locking eyes with Hannibal, each syllable emphasized.

„And Jack knows how the ‚Nola‘ looks like. He came by when I prepared it last time.“

Hannibal stills, his eyes boring into Wills. Will continues, whispering now.

„He will have checked whether it’s still in Portugal. He will have checked every fucking marina after it wasn’t anymore. He will know it’s here.“

Will shakes his head, his anger deflating suddenly, leaving a bone deep emotional exhaustion behind.

„He’ll know where we’ve gone.“

Hannibal presses his lips together for a moment, before he breaks their gaze and looks out of the windshield, considering. Will is silent, following his gaze, watching the quiet little marina, no soul in sight. Hannibal speaks after a moment, a weary undertone in his voice.

„We cannot go back. I believe they may have set up road blocks. Even if…“

He trails off, seeming suddenly years older and Will grimaces, continuing the thought.

„Even if this is a trap.“

Will swallows harshly, grinning for a moment.

„Well, all or nothing then. Again. Guess we’ll find out how good we are at playing soon…“

He pushes the door open and gets out, his neck prickling. He reaches for the backpack and then follows Hannibal to the main building, dread settling more deeply with every step. The little shop at the main stage is locked and empty and Hannibal smashes in a window to open the door, retrieving the keys silently, his eyes dark. 

They turn and walk towards the boat, Will jumping onto it with a sense of deja vu, preparing it quickly, perfunctory, trying not to give into the sense of haste too much. He nods at the cabin and Hannibal inclines his head a fraction, disappearing into it and Will closes his eyes for a moment, reaching for the lines.

Hannibal steps out again after a moment, nodding silently and Will pushes them off, heart hammering in his chest. He waits until the boat has cleared the stage and then turns on the engine, turning them towards the sea. He looks back for a moment, the vision surreal, his soul refusing to be relieved. He swallows harshly and then increases their speed, feverishly calculating the time to reach the international waters in his head.


	7. Chapter 7

The wind is in their favor. Will breathes a sigh of relief when they are actually on the open water, making good time. He sails through the day and then the night, Hannibal bringing coffee and food, silent except direct questions, staying close to him. Will anchors after the next day, dead on his feet, somewhat calmed after nothing has happened for two days, undressing sluggishly and crawling into bed next to Hannibal silently, utterly grateful that Chiyo has apparently pulled out a closet to make room for a bigger bed, just about big enough for them both. He pushes up to Hannibal, his face burrowing into his neck, letting the smell calm him, lips touching the bite mark, and he lets himself drop, out like a light within seconds.

 

__________________

 

Will wakes again when the bed shifts, sitting up groggily, still bone tired. Hannibal chuckles warmly and pushes Wills hair from his forehead, pressing a kiss to it. Will hums, raising his eyebrows.

„Still nothing?“

Hannibal shakes his head, humming in turn, lips gliding down Wills temple and to the soft skin under his left eye, sending goosebumps down Wills spine. He clenches his fingers in Wills curls and pulls softly, and Will moans lightly with the feeling this elicits, feeling Hannibal relax his fingers and then scrape his nails on Wills scalp, shivers rushing down Wills skin. Hannibal does it again and this time Will undulates minutely with a deep moan, met by a breathless chuckle of Hannibals, and then a quick lick into Wills left ear, making him gasp and hiss. 

Hannibal pulls back then, grinning, his fingers clenching again, watching as Will drops back his head willingly, eyes heavily lidded.

„I was unaware that it was a kink of yours…“

Will smiles and then bites his lower lip when Hannibal pulls a bit more, watching from under his lashes as Hannibal watches how his throat is stretched by the motion, their bond vibrating with peaceful lust, sluggishly settling within them. 

„Ahhh, as I’ve said before, I thought you’d figured it out when you played with my hair in the police car… or the very least when you did this when you claimed me.“

Hannibal purses his lips, shifting his fingers a bit, before pulling again, making Will sigh. He pauses, and Will opens his eyes when he feels the clang of a dissonate note along their bond, watching silently as Hannibal works on the words, the muscles in his jaw working. He pushes his forehead to Wills quietly before he speaks, finally, very calm.

„This is why you kept still that night.“

Will narrows his eyes, thoughts racing and then it clicks and he pulls his head sideways, ignoring the pull this time. He pulls a grimace and then sighs deeply, nodding once with a grim smile, huffing a harsh laugh.

„I thought you were going to kiss me. Not cut me open.“

Will swallows, hurt bleeding through their bond, echoed by bitter memories, driving home the fact that some wounds heal only perfunctory. He grimly forces the hurt back down and then reaches up, hesitating and then pulling Hannibal towards him again pressing their foreheads together once more. 

„It doesn’t matter. Not anymore.“

He sighs through his nose and then pushes his jaw up so he can nudge Hannibals cheek with his nose, pushing his need back across their bond, letting the hurt drop away once more.

„And now you know, will you employ it? Because…“

Will pushes a bit and Hannibal raises his head, eyes black on Wills, somber and intent. Will licks his lips.

„Because I just know you love to do it…“

Hannibal snarls quietly and then pulls Wills head back forcefully and Will moans and undulates fully this time, his head going back all the way and Hannibal bends down to mouth at his adams apple, softly pulling at the skin. Wills mind flashes back to that night on the cliff, what those teeth did to the Dragons throat and he moans again, shivers running through him. Hannibals fingers tighten in his hair, their bond aflame with truth, the words whispered.

„I wish to devour you… let me take care of you.“

Will grins, knowing the first statement is no threat anymore and Hannibals mouth moves down to the bite mark once more, licking at the scabbed over marks, before he moves down further, pushing Wills t-shirt aside with his right hand to reach the skin of his shoulder, breath hot on his skin, Hannibals left hand still gripping and releasing Wills hair, in a hypnotizing rhythm. There is a sharp tug and a ripping sound and then Hannibal pushes the tatters of Wills shirt off his upper body, shifting slightly to keep his hand in Wills hair, while mouthing down slowly. Will gasps at the wet heat that brushes the smile and then sucks at his nipples, his fingers finding Hannibals hair in turn, running them through the silver strands slowly. 

Hannibal releases Wills hair and then pulls his left hand down as well, chuckling against the skin of Wills stomach when Will mewls in protest, turning into a smile when he feels the amusement tickle across their bond. Hannibal draws back a bit and then pulls their remaining clothes off unceremoniously, bending down to lick at Will, making him gasp. He laves around his cock and his hole, never penetrating or taking him deep, alternating his strokes until Will is a quivering mess, leaking and gasping, limbs shaking, so close, so close, only a final push needed.

Hannibal pushes back suddenly, and Will throws himself back with a drawn out gasp, black eyes on black eyes and Hannibal grins, kneeling back and beckoning silently. Will snarls and then pushes himself up, intending to mount Hannibal, but Hannibal grabs his waist and turns him, shuffles until Will is kneeling in front of him. Hannibal grabs Wills forearms gently and then pushes them up and presses Wills hands against the wall and Will understands with a jolt of lust, groaning. He grips the edge of the headboard and pushes his folded legs apart a bit, feeling Hannibal settle behind him there, brush against him, teasing.   
Will closes his eyes and lets himself fall into the welcome lust, the feeling of Hannibals hand stroking him hard at the same moment as he is opening him sending Will over, clenching around Hannibal, making them both groan deeply, splattering the headboard. Hannibal stills and Will comes back down a bit after a moment, need slamming back into him when Hannibal chuckles and pushes forward again, going torturously slow, making sure to hit the perfect angle and Will surrenders to the feeling of being speared open, his body oh so willing but tight, craving the possession so deeply. 

He drops his head onto his left arm, panting when Hannibal finally settles deep within him, the molten iridescent feeling churning, and then Hannibal pulls him back a bit, seating them both even more, and Will opens his mouth in a silent scream as Hannibal settles even deeper, the fingers on his waist crushing in intensity. He holds and then his hands brush up Wills back slowly, nails dragging a bit until Hannibal pushes them up into Wills hair again, gripping firmly. 

Will groans openly and then follows the bend as Hannibal pulls him back and up, his back arching, head back, eyes closed, feeling the soft sway of the ship around them, the changing intensity of the tug of Hannibals fingers and the burning intensity of their connection, just holding and Will sobs, feels Hannibals finger clench. Hannibal moves just a bit and then holds again, fingers loosening and then does it again, clenching and pulling again and Will doesn’t realize he is crying until he can taste the tears, feeling utterly out of body, suspended on a fog of lust, allowing all he feels to travel across their bond.   
He hears the soft whispered ‚mylimasis‘ from far away, feels the pressure as the knot inflates as if an afterthought, the nails scraping along his scalp on every miniature push and pull centering his universe to pinpoint pricks, offset by the drops of salt that prickle his skin. He can feel the pleasure mount in Hannibal, transmitted in the rising urgency of the small movements and the obsessive possessiveness shuddering across their bond, the dark oily fog threatening to drown him, tips of antlers rising from it’s depths and vanishing again, promising everything but demanding his soul. Hannibal gasps and pulls, hard, bending Will back harshly, pulsing deeply within him and Will screams in agonized pleasure, teeth bared, buffeted and elevated on the beast he dared to ensnare, enslaved to each other now. 

Hannibal pulls him back even harder for a moment and then drops his hands from Wills hair and to Wills front, holding him back against his own chest with his hands over Wills heart and Will falls back slightly, shifting as far as possible, his arms coming to rest on Hannibals, his head dropping back onto Hannibals shoulder with a sigh. He closes his eyes there and gives himself over to the moment, time meaningless, only their breaths measurement for its passing. Hannibal puts his right hand forward at some point and shifts until he can lower them both to their sides onto the bed, still connected. 

Will falls asleep again, coveted and protected, hope stealing into his heart once more, foolishly.


	8. Chapter 8

It’s the sway of the boat that changes. 

Will sits up, his heart hammering, feels how Hannibal comes to like a light switched on, dark eyes watching him in the cabins dim light, alert within moments, tilting his head in intense concentration. Will frowns and then starts to get dressed hastily, pulling on clothes from their backpack, rummaging around for a moment for dark ones and he doesn’t need to check to feel Hannibal do the same. He reaches into the backpack once more when he’s done, pulling out their switch knives, giving one to Hannibal. Hannibal leans very close, his voice not much more than a whisper, almost inaudible even though he is directly next to Will.

„What is it, mylimasis.“

Will shakes his head and then pulls a grimace, pushing his lips to Hannibals ear as well, breathing the words.

„There is a big ship nearby, changing the way the waves roll off… and I haven’t heard an engine… also we’re tilted differently, there may be someone on the front bow.“

He draws back and searches Hannibals eyes, sees how the cold, almost reptile like stare takes hold, the killer in Hannibal coming to the fore within moments, their bond ablaze with ice cold fury. Will reaches forward and then presses his fingers to Hannibals lips for a moment, binding them together, before he draws back, turning towards the cabins door.  
He is reaching for it when the little bulls eye window shatters, a gas grenade following and Will snarls, reaching for it, his eyes burning, vision wavering. The cabin door flies open and masked special forces enter the little room, positively crowding it, and time slows to an almost stop, Wills mind sluggish in sudden terror. 

He sees in crystal clarity how the lasers train on them both, sees how Hannibals muscles coil, sees how he bends down to charge, sees how three of the special forces pull the trigger slightly back, sees the dark shadow appear in the main cabins door behind the swat team, sees the glint of the knife as Hannibal turns it, sees the glint of his teeth as Hannibal snarls and suddenly Will knows, he knows and his heart seizes. 

He closes his eyes and braces himself, feels how Hannibals head whips around in sudden furious terror, alarmed and hurt, refuses to open his eyes at the sharp ‚Will‘ that reaches him, swat team and Hannibal suddenly very still, an echoing quiet in the cabin, only broken by the soft hiss of the gas still releasing. 

Will sobs and then snarls, using every ounce of himself to will Hannibal to submit, will him to drop the knife, will him to stop fighting, will him to stop fighting for them, will him to allow them to capture him.

There is a searing painful dissonance along their bond and then Hannibal -breaks- with a roar, falling into himself, the knife tumbling to the floor, head falling forward, his hair obscuring his face and Will sobs, feels how Hannibal pulls the bond closed even more, the burning emptiness in Wills chest a chasm of pain.  
He hears the voice from far away, sealing their fate.

„You should have used another boat, Hannibal.“

Will bows his head down and presses his right fist with the knife against his heart, watching with blurred vision as Hannibal is pulled up, silent and unresisting, shoulders dropped, a sense of defeat emanating from him, the zipping of plastic handcuffs loud in the little room, the absence of Hannibal like a missing limb when he is taken away. 

Jack steps forward and then takes the knife from Will, gently prying it from his fingers, weighing it in his hands for a long moment before he sighs and clicks his tongue, his voice almost kind.

„Are you telling me you did not want to be bonded, Will?“

Will closes his eyes and presses his fist into his chest even more forcefully, thoughts racing and yet sluggish, feverishly wishing he could but refusing to actually consider, angry at himself and yet elated that he is so decided, for once, in this.

„No.“

He swallows, and then opens his eyes again, raising them to Jack, knowing he must and yet it is like a stab to his gut on every word, self hatred filling the self inflected wounds, rational thought overruled, forced by necessity.

„It… was the only way to force him to surrender.“

It’s not even a lie and yet Will would happily reopen the smile right now to take the words back, disgust at the small, pleased grin that twitches across Jacks lips rearing its ugly head within his soul, making him feel sick. Wills eyes drop to the small wound in Jacks throat, hidden only by a small bandaid, swallowing and forcing the words out.

„Bedelia got you there?“

Jack grunts and then sits on the bed with a heavy thud, looking sideways at Will, hands still playing with the knife.

„You wanna tell me why she did that?“

Will pulls a painful smile, lips and limbs starting to shake from the adrenaline high, settling down slowly to sit next to Jack on the bed, beyond exhausted suddenly.

„Bedelia… is clever enough to ensure her own survival, you know that, Jack.“

Jack purses his lips and then pockets the knife slowly, folding his hands in his lap afterwards.

„Well, I guess I can be happy she was too drugged to properly hit me, then.“

Will raises his eyebrows, unwilling to further comment, reality crashing into him with brutal simplicity. He licks his lips, pulling a grimace, trying to sound firm and failing spectacularly.

„What now, Jack?“

Jack looks at him for a long moment and then spreads his hands, shrugging.

„Well, you fulfilled your mission, Will. I doubt the FBI will ever let you work for them again though, after all, I might add, we cannot trust you anymore.“

Jack shakes his head, grimly, his voice dropping.

„However, and I don’t fucking care if you did this willingly Will, or not - fact is, you facilitated Hannibal Lecters capture by bonding yourself with him. We knew you would go down that road when we found your implant in that cave.“

Jack pauses eyes narrowing.

„If you’d considered doing this a few years back, you might’ve spared us all some pain… and scars.“

Will snorts, harshly, a painful smile flitting over his face, bitterness coloring his voice.

„My status as Omega was not for … sale for the FBI, Jack.“

Jack leans close, eyes hard.

„Which is why we cannot trust you anymore, now. Because your status as Omega was apparently up for… something.“

Will swallows and averts his gaze, fingers fidgeting. He inclines his head a fraction and asks, voice almost breathless.

„Why aren’t you arresting me as well? If you cannot trust me anymore, as you say?“

Jack snorts, cackling drily before sighing heavily.

„Oh, you know why, Will. It would never hold in court… You’re a bound Omega. His possession if he chooses to put you down as that into the relevant forms. By law an Alpha is responsible for his claimed and bound Omega and, due to your bond, you would be considered not responsible for your actions because he could have just forced you.“

Jack leans close, eyes unflinching on Wills, voice low.

„Though we both know that is utter bullshit.“

He pauses, eyes flicking back and forth between Wills.

„Especially after what I just witnessed.“

Will stills, face drawn, silent holding his gaze until Jack leans back with a sigh, reaching over to pat Wills knee, once.

„Now, if I had known I could try to calm you with my pheromones, I would’ve tried to calm your mind once or twice .“

Will jerks a bit back and snarls in disgust and Jack raises his arms in mock surrender, the Alpha sounding as defeated as Will feels.

„Not trying to come onto you, Will. Just… reminiscing. Wondering how things could have been differently, if we all had known.“

Jack pushes himself up and steps forward, turning back to Will slightly, waiting until Will is meeting his eyes.

„Now. I suggest you shower and then dress again in something that does not reek of him quite as much. There may not be hiding your status anymore, but at least don’t rub it in quite so much…“

Will tilts his head, his eyes narrowing.

„Rub…. it in?“

Jack bumps his fist on the doorframe, smirking wryly.

„Why yes, Will. I’m taking you home.“

Well fuck. Wills heart skips a beat in dread, feeling empty, not even the prospect of his dogs able to shake the feeling.


	9. Chapter 9

Hannibal doesn’t look back. 

Will watches from the broken window as he is brought over to the big coastal patrol ship with a dinghy, not once looking up, posture broken.

Will rests his head against the ships hull for a moment, reaching, but the bond is brittle and silent, dull, flat. Hurting. He pushes his hand into the shards in the little window frame, the sharp pain grounding him, bringing reality back into focus, and he rears back, falling into action. The shower is rushed, cold, too much soap and shampoo for the water, the man in the mirror looking back at him afterwards drawn and with a haunted wild look to his eyes. Will reaches for the silver indents in the mirror image before he can help himself, the scar once more healed already due to saliva Hannibal put on it during their rest, tenderly, the accelerated healing helping with the … story now. 

He dresses in clothes he finds in the ships closets, deeply grateful that Jack deems him reliable enough to let him get dressed by himself, the moments of quiet reverberating hollowly and yet deeply needed. Will considers taking out the laptop and sending a message to Chiyo for a moment, but then, she would already know. He slowly pulls on the slightly too big jacket he found in that closet in that cabin a felt lifetime ago, heavily imprinted with both their smells, refusing to dwell on how this must feel for Molly, or Walter for that matter, forcing himself up and out of the lower cabin. He trails his fingers along the kitchenette for a moment, and then forces the pain that wants to rise down viciously, stepping up and out, the wind heavy, pushing at him. 

Jack nods at him and then waves at another dinghy, waiting until Will steps down into it silently before he follows, dropping onto the little bench next to Will. Will swallows and looks up, following the lines and curves of their boat, and then he nods, already knowing. Jack looks at him and nods back and then he calls over to the second patrol ship on the other side, using his hand to enhance the volume.

„Sink it after we’re gone.“

Will swallows and closes his eyes, forcing the tears down, the corresponding acknowledgement reaching him through the rushing in his ears.  
The engine roars up and the dinghy accelerates over to the first patrol ship, almost masking the low thud when the grenade pierces the hull, the gurgling sound as the ‚Nola‘ disappears in the fathomless depths ripping at his soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \------------  
> \------------
> 
> Entering SotL territory here, however, this will continue to be Hannigram, no worries. :)  
> (It won't go where I went with 'A blackish red hue', even though I'm reusing a certain facet (maybe - it's not written yet, and my brain is weird, so who knows).)
> 
> Please - let me know what you think?  
> Kudos and Comments feed my muse^^


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